


Jealousy is a Nasty Motherfucker

by Wicked42



Series: Dadvid in Denver AU [3]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Camp Campbell one year later, David and Gwen try to relationship, F/M, Jealous Gwen, Max's Birthday, MomGwen, Whump, because of course there's gotta be a little whump, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-29 01:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15719367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked42/pseuds/Wicked42
Summary: During a free weekend from her Real Job, Gwen visits Camp Campbell... only to meet David's new co-counselor Patrice.Set one week after Seven Fucking Voicemails. Recommend reading that one first.





	1. Gwen Comes to Camp

It took the better half of seven hours to get to Sleepy Peak.

Flying Indianapolis to Portland was harrowing enough, considering the overpriced last-minute fares and extra workload her boss “suggested” she handle before Gwen left for the weekend. Add in the three hour bus ride to Sleepy Peak, and it was bordering on midnight before Gwen stepped into town, hauling her suitcase down the three steps as the bus driver slammed the doors shut and drove away.

But of course, David was already waiting for her. And that made it all worthwhile.

“Gwen!” he exclaimed, waving. As if she’d have trouble seeing him here, on this empty street, where it was literally the bus stop, his “new” car, and them.

She pretended not to notice him anyway. Hiding a grin, she squinted at the deserted shops, down the street, towards the forest. “Great. David was supposed to be here…” she muttered.

“I am here! Gwen, I’m right here!”

“Kind of rude of him to stand me up—”

“Oh, now you’re just being mean,” he laughed, and without further warning, he swept her into a twirling hug.

She wrapped her arms around his neck when he finally set her back on the ground. The motion pulled her recovering wound, but she didn’t dare release him.

“I missed you,” he said, green eyes sparkled as he gazed at her.

Jesus, was this what it was like to feel loved? All her old flings paled in comparison. Gwen blushed, heat rising to her cheeks as she replied, drily, “It’s been five days, you idiot. You left Indiana for Oregon five days ago.”

“Five days too long,” he replied resolutely.

She kind of agreed. He and Max had stayed at her apartment over the weekend, with Max causing general mayhem while she and David figured out whatever the hell _this_ was. They settled on “relationship,” which was such a new and shocking concept it still made Gwen a little scared.

Well, not scared. “Fucking terrified” was more appropriate.

Expanding the areas of their friendship took more out of her than she’d expected. After they boarded another plane with the last of David’s money, angled towards Oregon and Camp Campbell, Gwen spent her Monday ghosting around the Zionsville Times Sentinel, switching between blinding happiness that David finally knew, _and felt the same way_ , to crippling certainty that they’d made a huge mistake.

It didn’t get better over the week, despite his evening phone calls and chipper attitude. They still had a lot to determine about how _this_ was going to work.

But his enthusiasm was catching. And this weekend wasn’t about them.

Gwen redirected the conversation. “Considering I’m leaving again on Tuesday, you’re in for a tough summer, Davey. Where’s Max? Does he know?”

David grinned and pointed at the car, an old Honda Civic idling a few feet away. “Sleeping in the backseat. I didn’t want to leave him at Camp with just Quartermaster. But we were running all day, so he’s pretty beat.”

She pressed a fast kiss to David’s lips, then pulled away before he could deepen it. That was another aspect of their relationship she had yet to define: the physical boundaries. Jumping into bed with Wally the Bartender had seemed easy, enjoyable for a night, no commitment.

But everything _about_ David was commitment. And she didn’t want to fuck that up with mindless, well, fucking.

Luckily, David wasn’t the type to push. He trailed behind her, a dazed smile on his face as she bent through the open window to see Max, buckled in and snoozing on a massive pillow in the middle seat.

“He looks so much less demonic when he’s sleeping,” she whispered, mock-impressed.

“Heeey. He’s not demonic. He’s spirited.”

Oh, David. She snorted and strolled back to her luggage. “Does he know about the party?” Despite how tired she was, the idea of tomorrow had her perking up, anticipation spreading across her skin. It was going to be so fantastic.

David reached around her, plucking her luggage off the dirt. “Nope! Patrice has done a great job of getting things ready while I kept Max distracted.”

“Patrice…?”

“The new counselor.” David paused, a frown tilting his features. “I told you about her, didn’t I?”

Gwen couldn’t remember. Honestly, most of their phone conversations had been him enthusing about Camp and Max and the forest and summertime, with Gwen smiling against a glass of wine. If he mentioned this new counselor, it went in one ear and out the other.

Jesus, she should pay more attention. “Oh, right. Of course! I mean, you can’t do it alone.”

But her heart still twinged when he laughed. “Well, she’s not you, but I think it’ll be a good summer!”

“And she’s not a cultist, right?” Gwen joked, attempting a grin that was really more of a pained grimace.

David winced, rubbing his side. “Oh, gosh, that would be terrible. But Max assured me she seems ‘painfully boring,’ which I’m taking as a good thing.” He popped the trunk, easing her suitcase into the car so the movement didn’t wake Max. “But don’t worry, Gwen. You’ll just love her. She’s smart and funny and is so excited to meet the kids!”

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Been a while since Gwen had felt real, unabashed _jealousy_. But here it was, rising hot and fast and ugly, rushing over her like a tsunami. Because she _knew_ what summer was at Camp Campbell.

Summer was kids being assholes, and the counselors tag-teaming so neither one lost their shit.

Summer was quiet half-hours of coffee as the sun peeked over the trees and the counselors shared sleepy smiles before donning their armor for the day.

Summer was quiet nights around a fire with a galaxy of stars gleaming overhead, pressed together under one blanket nursing hot chocolate and murmuring about their hopes and dreams while the kids slept in tents thirty yards away.

Summer was _David_.

And Gwen wasn’t going to be here. _Patrice_ was.

“Gwen?” David took her hand, squeezing it. Something he would have been too abashed to do last summer, but now it seemed easy as breathing. “You okay?”

She stared at their intertwined fingers, trying to rearrange her face into something that wasn’t petty and disgusting. “Ah, y-yeah. Totally fine. Just kind of… realizing I won’t be around this summer.”

His face fell. “But you’ve finally got the job of your dreams, Gwen.”

Ha. _Job of her dreams_. It seemed that way, before she realized that a journalist’s job is inherently ruining someone’s life by exposing the truth. Before people like Mrs. Kiandra started screaming at her on the phone, threatening to sue, and bosses like Evans started treating her less like the new employee of untapped potential, and more like the slacker millennial everyone seemed convinced she was.

But—her job also gave her money in her bank account. Real money, not the pop cash she earned at that diner, or even the pennies shoved their way at Camp. Without the Zionsville Times Sentinel, she couldn’t afford a last-minute plane ticket to attend Max’s surprise birthday party. She couldn’t pay off the hospital bills from March.

And getting a nine to five was how everyone adulted. A steady paycheck, health insurance, a 401k. Like it or not, she couldn’t give up those benefits to frolic off to Camp for a summer.

So she offered a crooked smile. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. I’m just going to miss you and Max and being at Camp.”

“It’s just for a summer,” David said, forcefully cheerful. Almost like he was trying to convince himself too. Because there was another unspoken aspect of their future. How long would they manage long-distance?

Gwen was studiously ignoring the answer.

David squeezed her hand, then closed the trunk. The car swayed, and in the backseat, Max jerked upright.

“Mmmngh. David?”

Well, no time to think about this now. David motioned for Gwen to get into the car, his melancholy attitude vanishing under the anticipation of their reunion. “I’m right here, bud! And guess who just showed up?”

But Max wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. He rubbed his eyes and peeked through the open window as David slid into the driver’s seat. “Where the fuck are we?”

While he was distracted, Gwen wrenched open the passenger door and exclaimed, far too loudly for the time of night, “ _Surprise_ , motherfucker!”

“Jesus Christ,” Max yelped.

Gwen cackled, and the kid quickly smacked her seat, eyes flashing. “Shit, Gwen, you gave me a goddamn heart attack! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Guys, _language_ ,” David heaved a sigh.

They flipped him off.

“I just missed Camp so gosh darn much,” Gwen said, mimicking David as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, there’s no need to be mean,” David said with a sniff, but a smile tilted his lips nonetheless. He made sure they were all buckled, then changed gears and eased down the dirt road, away from the bus stop’s solitary street lamp. Darkness quickly engulfed the car, but David knew this drive by heart, smoothly turning onto the innocuous road that would lead to Camp Campbell.

Max snorted. “Missed Camp? Oh, sure. I’ll believe that when Space Kid lands on the moon.”

“I don’t think he’s coming back this year,” David said with a frown, tapping the steering wheel. “I haven’t seen his enrollment papers…”

“Okay, but no one gives a shit about Space Kid. Don’t you have a _job_ , Gwen?” Max tried to sound sarcastic, but she didn’t miss the curiosity tinging his words.

“As a matter of fact, I do. But there’s this weird thing called a ‘weekend’ that—”

“Air quotes aren’t necessary, asshole,” Max snapped.

Gwen smirked. “My boss is gone until Wednesday, so as long as I get back before Tuesday night, I’m home free.”

“What, your coworkers aren’t going to miss you?”

Gwen flinched. Mary, her perpetual office frenemy, would definitely have words for Gwen when she got back into town. But as long as she got her work done, there wasn’t really any reason to be in the office. “You know what they say. It’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

“So you’re ditching,” Max said with a self-satisfied smirk. “Employee of the month, right here.”

“Max,” David scolded.

Gwen twisted to face him, matching his smirk. “Well, some things are worth it. What time is it, David?”

“Ah, 12:04am,” he read dutifully.

Her smile grew wider. “Happy birthday, you little shit.”

David beamed at the road, but Gwen was privy to the kaleidoscope of emotion crossing Max’s face: shock, happiness, embarrassment, confusion, before settling on general horror. “H- _How_? How did you know?”

“Jesus, Max. David’s your guardian now. Give him a little credit.”

Max scowled at the back of David’s neck. Despite the bags under his eyes, he seemed fully awake now. “Birthdays are stupid. You’d better not have anything planned, you moron.”

But David just glanced at Max in the rearview mirror. “Nothing big.”

Max groaned. “This is why I didn’t _tell_ you.”

“Eleven is a big year, bud!” David exclaimed, and he looked so excited that even Gwen grinned. “You’re a pre-teen now.”

“Technically, pre-teen starts at ten,” Max shoved the blanket David draped over him onto the floor, then pressed his nose against the window.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you certainly have the teenage angst all set in stone, don’t you?”

David interrupted before Max could retort: “Sorry, bud. We’d have celebrated last year when you got to Camp, but you didn’t tell anyone,” David said. It wasn’t malicious or angry, but Max scoffed all the same.

 “Oh, _sooorry_ I wasn’t in the mood, considering that was the day my parents shoved me onto a bus and sent me to this fucked up summer camp in the first place. Nothing says ‘happy birthday’ like abandoning your kid for three months.”

Silence filled the car. David’s jaw clenched, like it always did when Max reminded them of just how goddamn awful his biological parents were.

Gwen squeezed David leg, flashed him an encouraging smile. He smiled back, then cleared his throat. “Well, we’re fixing that this year. I think we need some new traditions. Starting with a real birthday party!”

“Kill me now,” Max mumbled, sagging against the window.

But even in the darkness, Gwen didn’t miss his tiny smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Visit me on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wicked-42)


	2. Patrice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David puts Max to bed. In the morning, Gwen meets the infamous Patrice.

Max’s energy had fled by the time they arrived at Camp Campbell. He was snoring softly against that massive pillow as David gingerly unbuckled his seatbelt and scooped him up. Gwen watched fondly as she tugged her suitcase from the trunk, mildly impressed that he had that motion down to an art.

Almost like he’d done it a few times before.

The thought of David scooping a sleeping Max from the backseat of a car made Gwen weirdly happy—happy that Max trusted David enough to fall asleep, that David cared for Max enough to prioritize his rest over walking inside.

It was something so small, but it kind of slammed home just how much of a _dad_ David was now.

Meanwhile, Gwen was still learning how to cook things beyond basic college necessities like mac and cheese, and ramen.

Suitcases didn’t roll on dirt, so she carried it into the counselor’s cabin, following David’s certain steps as he maneuvered Max’s head around the doorframe. In the threshold, she paused, because _shit_ , she didn’t think of where she’d be sleeping tonight.

Common sense would dictate David’s bed. That’s what _couples_ did, right? But they hadn’t ever shared a bed. Or talked about it. And as much as Gwen felt that rush of happiness whenever she looked at David, and got that warm feeling below her stomach whenever he dared to kiss her, sleeping in the same bed just sounded… awkward.

Especially with Max in the room.

The door to the female side of the counselor’s cabin was closed—undoubtedly where this mysterious “Patrice” was staying. David finagled with the doorknob to his side, shifting Max onto his shoulder as he pushed open the door.

Gwen stayed in the tiny entrance. Embarrassment had her shifting, cursing herself for not thinking of this before she came. “S-Should I stay with you, or—or I could sleep in one of the tents—”

“Don’t be silly, Gwen,” David whispered over Max’s poofy hair. “I have a cot set up for you.” He laughed, but she could detect nervousness underlying the sound. “Unless you _want_ to sleep with me. Ah, _in the same bed_ , I mean! Not—not sleep with me. Well, maybe we could try that too, but—later.” His face went as red as his hair.

Oh, Jesus, he was so awkward. He seemed so confident in other areas of his life, especially now that Max was expecting him to parent and shit, but every once in a while she’d get a flash of the David she knew before all this went down.

And faced with _that_ David, it was easy to assume the confident swagger of someone far more sexually advanced. Especially when that attitude would get him flustered and floundering, which was adorable and hilarious even _before_ they started dating.

Gwen winked. “I’m not opposed to trying that. Later.”

His face flushed even more, but Max shifted, and David cleared his throat and quickly ducked into his bedroom. Gwen followed at a leisurely pace, strangely satisfied now that they’d actually addressed What Happens Next. It was nice to know David was just as freaked as she was.

Also nice to know that uncertainty wasn’t scaring him away.

David set Max on his bed, tucking the boy in with swift movements. Max’s jaw dropped, and drool slipped down his cheek, but David just swiped it away and ruffled his hair before tucking that ratty old teddy bear into the kid’s arms.

“Happy birthday, bud,” David whispered.

Fucking. Adorable.

Gwen’s uterus couldn’t take it.

Avoiding the private moment, she closed the door to his bedroom and set her suitcase on the tiny cot in the corner. Their rooms weren’t _big_ by any means, but here, with David and Max, it just felt cozy. She swallowed a yawn, and David came up beside her.

“I bet you’re pretty tired,” he remarked.

“I’m always tired,” she said, rolling her eyes as she unzipped her suitcase. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

David glanced at Max and lowered his voice even more. “Nikki and Neil are coming bright and early. Quartermaster’s leaving at dawn to pick them up.”

Of course none of the others would be coming yet. Gwen whistled soft and low. “I’m impressed you managed to convince their parents to send them a few days early. That must have taken some bribery, considering this was their last weekend with the kids for a few months.”

“Well,” David rubbed the back of his neck. “Max hasn’t been shy about what’s happened the last six months. Their parents have been great, actually. Letting them stay in touch, coordinating visits.” He chuckled. “Plus, now that school’s out, I think Nikki’s mom is at her wit’s end.”

Gwen snorted.

“Anyway, they’ll be Surprise Number One. From then, we’ll have a nature hike, then a pizza party, then end with s’mores around the fire!”

“A nature hike?” Gwen deadpanned. “Do you even _know_ Max?”

“Of course I do,” David sounded insulted. “That’s why we’re hiking to the Woodscout Camp to teepee it before anyone gets there.”

Gwen barked a laugh, to which Max groaned and rolled over. Both of them held their breath, and when it was apparent he wasn’t waking up, she gripped David’s shoulders. “Oh my _god_ , David. You’re sanctioning a teepeeing?” Delight oozed from her words.

“They teepeed our camp last year,” he defended, but under her maniacal grin, he fidgeted. “Well, Patrice said Max would prefer that. And it’s his birthday; I want it to be fun.”

Patrice.

Gwen’s mirth came crashing down.

 _Patrice_ suggested it. The best activity of the day, and it wasn’t coordinated by David, Max’s temporary guardian, or her, arguably Max’s second-favorite adult (probably). Nooo, it was fucking Patrice. Gwen had been gone for five days, and already this new counselor had wedged her way into the boys’ lives.

And what was worse, she’d done it _well_. The fact that a few days had been enough to pin Max’s personality… Gwen suddenly felt like a total outsider, watching another counselor slip right into her old place.

David tilted his head. “Gwen? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying not to sound annoyed. “I’m—I’m gonna go change. Get ready for bed.” She plucked her pajamas out of her suitcase and stomped into the shared bathroom, shutting the door with a resolute click. She glared at Patrice’s side of the cabin, daring this mysterious new woman to fling open the door for a midnight pee. But the door stayed closed, even though it took Gwen the better part of forty minutes just to calm her racing heart, cool her heated fury.

It was a fluke. Patrice wasn’t taking Gwen’s boys. She was just doing her goddamn job, something Gwen _should_ know and respect. But jealousy was an ugly color, and Gwen was humiliated she felt it at all. If she went into that bedroom now, David would know something was wrong, and she couldn’t bear to admit what.

Because what if he judged her for not accepting this new counselor with open arms? A mature person would smile and nod and accept this development, especially considering it was _Gwen’s_ decision that forced Patrice’s hiring in the first place.

Paralyzed by self-loathing and hatred, Gwen camped in the bathroom until she heard David turn off the light, climb into bed. Thirty minutes later, he started snoring softly.

Only then did she creep out of the bathroom and crawl into her cot.

But even though they were separated by a few feet, Gwen felt a galaxy away.

 

* * *

 

Of course, after a night of tossing and turning, it was _fucking Patrice_ who woke Gwen up.

Well, Gwen and Max, both of whom had slept away the sunrise. It was bordering on 8am when David threw the cabin door open and shouted, “Good _morning_!”

Gwen groaned, tugging a pillow over her head, right until she heard a bright female voice chime, “Happy birthday, Max! We made coffee!”

Oh shit. _Shit._ Gwen threw back the covers and pushed upright, blinking past the morning light at the two figures in the doorway. Behind her, in David’s bed, Max grumbled, “You never let me have coffee anymore.”

“Well, it _is_ your birthday,” David said. Then he frowned. “But just for today, got it? I don’t want to find another coffee pot in your tent this summer. It’s not healthy for a growing child.”

Max grinned sleepily, maliciously, as David strolled into the room and handed him a mug.

But Gwen wasn’t looking at them. She was staring at the new counselor, who was holding a second coffee mug.

Patrice.

She was shorter than Gwen expected, petite in an outdoorsy, cute kind of way. No, scratch that. With her happy smile, strawberry blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, Patrice was _fucking adorable_. She looked a little older than Gwen, too, maybe around David’s age, which only made Gwen even more annoyed.

Patrice skipped into the bedroom on David’s heels, but she went straight for Gwen. “You must be Gwen! David’s told me a lot about you. I’m excited to meet you! Two creams, four sugars, right?”

“Um—” Gwen took the mug, uneasiness curdling in her gut. “Thanks?”

“Of course,” Patrice beamed. “David also said you’ll need a half hour to wake up, so no worries. We’re heading out! We just came to get Max.”

Meanwhile, David tossed the kid a pair of jeans, the yellow Camp Campbell shirt, and his hoodie. “Get dressed, bud. We’ve got a big day planned!”

“Kill me now,” Max grumbled, but he left his coffee to trod into the bathroom and change.

Patrice chuckled. “He’s so enthusiastic, isn’t he? But we’re going to have a blast today! I hope you’ll join us when you’re more awake, Gwen.” With a thumbs-up, she strolled from the room.

Gwen stared after her, flabbergasted. The mug was warm in her hand, and the coffee smelled pretty goddamn good. But everything about that woman made her sour, and not in the way Daniel had. The cultist had been flat-out creepy, but Patrice… she seemed wholesome in a way Gwen couldn’t hope to compare.

“What do you think of her?” David asked, cheerily.

Gwen forced a pained smile. “Ah, she’s great. Just—just great.”

“Perfect! Hey, can you make sure Max brushes his teeth? The bus should be here any minute, and I don’t want the kiddos to get confused if it’s just Patrice out there,” David edged towards the door. “Tell Max to meet us by the flagpole when he’s ready!”

“Sure,” Gwen replied, distantly.

David flashed a grin and strolled from the cabin.

Gwen stared at her coffee, numb. Annoyed without any real reason. Her shoulders hunched over the mug, and even the divine smell wasn’t enough to curb the emotion coursing through her veins. Her lips downturned, her eyes narrowing.

Which is of course how Max found her. He strolled out of the bathroom, untucking his unruly curls from the thin neck of the hoodie. When he saw her, he stopped and snorted. “There a reason you’re glaring at that cup like it’s the bane of your goddamn existence?”

She turned the glare to him instead, and he recoiled. “What the fuck’s wrong with _you_?”

Petty feelings, that’s what. Gwen heaved a frustrated sigh and pushed off the cot, stomping past him into the bathroom. He watched, mildly curious, as she dumped the coffee down the sink and abandoned the mug on the countertop.

“What a waste,” Max said as he stepped over to his mug and took a long swig. “You know how rare it is that David makes coffee?”

Gwen gripped the countertop. “David didn’t make that coffee. _Patrice_ did.”

A sly grin curled Max’s lips. “Oh. I see what’s happening here.”

“Shut up, you little shit.”

“Hey, it’s my birthday, you asshole.”

She rolled her eyes and stomped back over to her suitcase, plucking the outfit she’d chosen for the festivities today. Cargo shorts and her old green t-shirt with that stupid pine tree on it. In Indiana, it had seemed clever, a mockup of her old uniform, as if she was still a counselor at this god-forsaken Camp.

Now, it seemed like a slap in the face.

Max watched as she shoved the shirt back into the depths of the suitcase, fishing out a boring white one instead.

“Okay, but seriously. You look like someone kicked your dog.”

“Max, I’m fine. Okay? Just drop it.”

“You know he’s not into Patrice, right?” Max shoved the hand not holding his patented Nope mug into his hoodie’s pocket. She stiffened, but he kept talking. “She’s too… peppy. I think it freaks him out. To be honest, she’s kind of annoying.”

It shouldn’t have made Gwen smile, but it did. Still, she turned away so Max couldn’t see, pretending to be busy zipping her suitcase back up.

Max took another sip of coffee and asked, far too casually, “You need me to run her outta Camp?”

“What? Shit, no,” Gwen whirled on him, only to see the familiar, troublemaker-child grin on his face.

“Might be fun. I bet I can get her to crack. We could take bets.”

Gwen laughed in spite of herself. “Jesus Christ, you’re a little monster, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, _Patrice_ didn’t pluck me off a picnic table in the middle of a snowstorm. I know where my loyalties lie.” With a wink and a wave, he strolled out of the cabin.

Gwen stared after him, chest warm.

Max was right. She didn’t have anything to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahaha. I love Max and Gwen's relationship. XD
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wicked-42)


	3. The Woodscout Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gwen acts like an idiot, and things escalate quickly.

By the time Gwen got herself together, Max’s reunion had already happened. She knew, because David was in the mud and Patrice was gone and the bus was on fire.

“Jesus Christ!” Gwen exclaimed. Across the field, Quartermaster was watching the flaming vehicle impassively. David still hadn’t gotten up, which was alarming, but not as alarming as Nikki sprinting towards the bus.

That’s right. Directly towards the _fire_.

“Viva uno revolution-ato!” the girl hollered, a grin plastered on her face.

Max and Neil were cracking up just a few feet away, exchanging what looked suspiciously like cash. Gwen’s world narrowed into _catch that fucking kid_ and she poured on the speed, intercepting Nikki inches before she hit the flames.

“Are you insane?” Gwen shouted, throwing the girl over her shoulder as the heat licked her back.

“Oh. Hi, Gwen,” Nikki said.

Gwen gritted her teeth and stomped back to Max and Neil, depositing the green-haired girl between them. “ _Stay_.” She shoved a finger in their faces.

“Told you it wouldn’t work,” Neil said, even as Max rolled his eyes and fished another $20 from his pocket.

Where he got $20, Gwen had no fucking clue. She didn’t even _want_ to know what they’d been betting on.

She turned to David next. He was a safe distance from the flames, but with their luck, the flames would hit the fuel tank and the explosion would kill him. Mind whirling with morbid outcomes to this scenario, Gwen slid to her knees and patted his cheek.

“David, wake up!”

He groaned, which was good. Gwen heaved a sigh of relief as he blinked up at her, focusing quickly. “Ah, Gwen! Get the flamethrower from—”

“Too late,” she replied, hauling him upright.

His eyes settled on the bus, and his face paled. “ _Maaaax._ ”

“Busted.” Nikki snickered across the clearing.

“Hey. It wasn’t me,” Max said, jabbing a thumb at Neil, who cackled, looking more like the mad scientist villain of an action movie than an eleven-year-old at a fake science camp.

Gwen was about to reply, but that’s when Patrice sprinted up with two fire extinguishers. With the expert skill of someone who’s put out literal fires before, she tugged the pin on one and squeezed the handle and aimed the spray at the base of the flames. It took both of the extinguishers, but soon the bus was a smoldering pile of metal and white foam.

Silence reigned in the clearing for a bare moment before Patrice cleared her throat. “You guys have a _lot_ of fire extinguishers at the QM store.”

“Well, as you can see, it’s necessary,” David forced a smile. Aside from a bump on his forehead, he seemed physically fine, which quelled the tiny coil of fear in Gwen’s chest.

It did nothing for the fury coiling next to it, though. She spun on Max and his friends. “You little shits. We just can’t have a nice, normal day, can we?”

“I don’t know. This doesn’t seem all that unusual,” Max sniffed.

Nikki grinned. “It’s Max’s birthday! We got him a flamethrower. I bet you couldn’t come up with a cooler gift!” She high-fived Max, then Neil.

“Stop,” Gwen interrupted, pointing towards the mess hall. “We’re going to have a discussion about this later, trust me. Get inside and wait for breakfast. And even though I shouldn’t have to say this, I will anyway. _No fire._ ”

Max, Nikki, and Neil, grumbling at the injustice of it all, filed into the mess hall.

Gwen turned around, only to see Patrice helping David to his feet. The woman said something to him, too quiet for Gwen to hear, and he laughed brightly, his normal smile already back on his face. She touched the reddening welt on his forehead, and he waved her off.

Oh _shit_ no. Gwen’s blood boiled, but her eyes flicked to the fire extinguishers, to the charred bus, to the thick black smoke already starting to dissipate high above the trees.

Patrice had saved the day.

Well, wasn’t that just _lovely_?

Clearly, Patrice had David covered. With a growl, Gwen stomped into the mess hall after Max and his friends. They were hunched together at one of the long tables, but she studiously ignored whatever they were doing now.

Really, it wasn’t her job or her problem anymore.

Quartermaster filed in after Gwen, heading behind the serving window into the kitchen. She could hear him clanking around, grumbling to himself about the bus and the fire and his sudden loss of eyebrows. Gwen sunk into a seat as far from Max as possible, trying not to look like she’d swallowed a lemon.

David strolled in, with Patrice close behind. While Patrice ducked into the kitchen, slipping seamlessly into the role of chef (because of _course_ she helped cook, too), David slid onto the bench beside Gwen.

“Thanks for helping, Gwen,” David said, throwing his arm around her in a hug.

It only made Gwen more irate. He hadn’t even been _awake_ to see her saving Nikki from the flames. As far as David was aware, Gwen had just stood there, gaping at the chaos, until Patrice heroically swooped in with the fire extinguishers.

So she hunched her shoulders under his touch and muttered, “I didn’t really do anything.”

David extracted himself, a mild frown tilting his lips. “Is everything okay? You don’t seem like yourself today.”

“Just—annoyed,” Gwen said. At David’s raised eyebrows, she backtracked. “Uh, with Max! He’s being a little shit.”

“Well, it is summertime,” David said, as if that explained everything.

Gwen sighed, burying her head in her arms. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

* * *

 

 

Breakfast dragged. Gwen sat beside David, with Patrice forming a triangle of their seating arrangements, but most of it was spent picking at her food while David and Patrice chatted about the weather and the state of the Camp and which campers would be arriving when.

Gwen knew she was being a buzzkill, that even David was noticing her bad attitude, but she was too stubborn to force a smile on her face. She had no smiles to give. Patrice had taken them all. So she sat, glumly picking at her food, wondering how to salvage this situation while simultaneously not wanting to.

Once they were done eating, David cheerfully corralled Max and Nikki and Neil outside. The bump on his forehead had transitioned from welt into an ugly bruise, but David didn’t seem to notice or care. He produced the toilet paper, and Patrice revealed their plan for the day, and Gwen trailed behind three enthusiastically evil children as they hiked around Lake Lilac.

The issue arose when Patrice made it a competition.

“First one to the Woodscout camp wins,” she called in an excited tone.

Max, Nikki, and Neil were gone in an instant. David wrinkled his nose and shouted after them, “Ah, careful, kids! Safety first!” With an exasperated sigh, he plowed after them, less concerned about winning and more concerned with stopping them from running off a cliff or something.

Which left Gwen and Patrice.

Gwen wasn’t one for competition. Normally, she’d roll her eyes and grab her book while everyone acted like idiots around her. But Patrice flashed her a grin and said, “Want to see who’s the better camper?”

It was a joke. Gwen _knew_ it was a joke. Something to break the ice, to soften the cold persona Gwen had adopted around this woman. Everything about Patrice’s body language, stance, and smile hinted at a quiet desperation to get to know Gwen, undoubtedly for David’s sake.

But logic wasn’t dominating Gwen’s mind.

Passion was.

An undying passion to beat Patrice at her own fucking game.

So she smirked and replied, “You’re on.” And then took off running.

Patrice may be cute, thin, athletic, good at firefighting and handling problem campers and matching David’s cheery attitude, but Gwen had something she didn’t. Raw determination, and a basic knowledge of where the Woodscouts staked their claim of Lake Lilac.

She didn’t take the wandering path that moseyed into enemy territory.

No, she veered in a totally different direction than Patrice, David, and the kids. Because everyone knew the fastest way was a _straight_ _goddamn_ _line_.

And so she staggered up hills and through thick underbrush and past low-hanging branches, unaware of how they cut her face, her legs, her arms. She splashed through a tiny stream, clawed her way through bushes, ignored the way her chest heaved and her heart pounded. Because she was in it to win it.

Just _one_ fucking win on Patrice. That’s all Gwen needed. And then David would know she was perfect and amazing, and he’d spend the rest of his summer talking about _her_ instead.

Triumphant and smug, even as her hair plastered to her face and sweat streamed down her back and neck, Gwen burst through the last layer of trees and came to a gasping stop at the gates of the Woodscout camp.

She was alone.

“Haha!” she drew in a shuddering breath, bracing herself on her knees. Oh, god, she was going to be sick. No, that was just the sweet, sweet taste of victory. “Take that, Patrice,” she coughed past the lump in her throat.

A minute later, Nikki barreled into the clearing. The picture of youth, she wasn’t even winded. Her eyes settled on Gwen, and she groaned. “Aww, man. Guuuys, we lost. I told you we should have left Neil behind! He slowed us down.”

“Hey! I’m a man of science, not nature. You’re lucky I bothered to come _back_ to this stupid Camp,” Neil complained loudly as he and Max strolled onto the scene next.

Max had his hands in his hoodie, looking vastly amused. “Huh. Apparently it’s only cloudy over here when the troops arrive. Wonder how they manage that.”

“It does seem scientifically unfeasible,” Neil muttered.

But Max’s sharp green eyes had settled on Gwen, and he recoiled, wrinkling his nose. “Jesus, you look like you got hit by a bus.”

She took stock, noting the leaves in her hair, the rips in her clothes, the blood oozing from various cuts on her skin. Huh.

“That’s the price of victory. Read it and weep.” She grinned.

Of course, that’s when David and Patrice crested the hill, toting the bag of toilet paper and chatting amicably.

Like they were best fucking friends.

Gwen’s heart sank. Oh, come _on_. For a brief moment, she was convinced Patrice had planned this: toying with Gwen’s personality to send her on this frantic mission, just to get David alone.

Shit, what if this _was_ a mutiny? Maybe it wasn’t all in Gwen’s head. Maybe this new counselor really was infatuated with David, just biding her time while Gwen made a fool of herself.

The thought had Gwen trembling in anger.

Max glanced between them, but before he could speak, David noticed them.

“Oh my gosh, Gwen! What happened?” Panic tinged his voice, and he abandoned Patrice to jog over to her. He fished into his backpack for a tiny first-aid kit, flipping through it for a few band-aids.

“We were racing,” Gwen said, chest still heaving. “I won.” It sounded like a hollow victory, now.

David frowned. “Oh, well, it’s hardly a win if you’re banged up in the process.”

“Yeah, what kind of example are you setting?” Neil chimed, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Max elbowed Neil. “Cut it out, man.” He glanced between Gwen and David, then plucked a roll of toilet paper from David’s bag and pushed his friends towards the massive wooden gate. “Let’s get this open so we can get this show on the road. Neil, you got those explosives?”

Neil scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Wait, what?” David asked, but the kids were already putting distance between them, running to the closed gates.

Patrice arrived with an enthusiastic smile. “Wow, Gwen, you got here so fast! You definitely beat me,” Her eyes roamed Gwen’s physical state, but she didn’t interfere with David playing nurse. “What route did you take? We didn’t see you on the trail…”

“I cut through the forest,” Gwen replied, slowly, squinting at the older woman. Analyzing her tone for hints of sabotage, of manipulation.

But as always, Patrice seemed amicable and impressed. Weirdly… genuine. “Wow! That was really smart. Great job!”

“No, no, not smart,” David fretted, his brows knitting together. “Gwen, didn’t you remember the poison ivy on that route?”

Oh _shit_. She fumbled for a reply, but could only settle on, “Ah, no?”

He glanced at Patrice and said, “We have to get to the lake. Keep an eye on the kids, okay? They said something about explosi—”

An unsubtle _bang_ echoed through the campsite, causing the counselors to flinch. David went pale, but then Max shouted, “Fucking _awesome_ ,” and the kids kicked open the wooden door, brandishing their toilet paper.

“Ah, never mind,” David said, shooting a sheepish glance at Patrice.

The other woman laughed, then offered the Camp Campbell salute. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ve got this.” She spun on her heels, strolling after the kids. “Hey! What did I say about bombs, Max?”

Gwen rolled her eyes. The Camp Campbell salute? “Boss”? What a suck up.

Meanwhile, David redirected his attention towards Gwen, taking her elbow to guide her down the path. It made her feel like one of his campers, young and stupid, instead of his co-counselor.

His girlfriend.

Jesus, she never should have come this weekend.

“If we wash off the oil, you might not have a reaction,” David was saying, determination setting his jaw. “There’s only a fifty percent chance you’ll react anyway. Do you know if you’re allergic to poison ivy?”

 “I can’t say I’ve ever tested it,” Gwen muttered. Now that she was paying attention, her legs did feel kind of tingly. But the lake was already in sight, and David wasn’t wasting time.

“Well, rinse off anyway, just in case. If you’re going to have a reaction, we’ll know by tomorrow.”

“Jesus, David, I know about poison ivy,” she snapped.

He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “I know. But—I also thought you knew better than to stray from the hiking trails. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

It came from a place of concern, but it hit Gwen all wrong. She wrenched her arm away from him as they arrived at the lake. “You know what, David, I’m perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Your new counselor is fucking amazing.”

“Patrice?” David blinked. “Well, she’s nice. And I think she’ll be a good addition to the Camp—”

“Of course she will be. She’s goddamn perfect.”

Angrily, Gwen stripped her shoes and socks and stomped into the lake. The cold water rushed over her knees, her thighs, even her shorts, but she kept wading further and further in, putting as much distance between her and David as possible. Only when she was up to her waist did she duck to rinse her arms and legs to clear the poison ivy oil.

David stood on the bank, looking very confused.

Gwen stayed out there a lot longer than necessary, scrubbing her skin raw. The band-aided cuts burned in the water, but it was better than getting a big, unflattering, itchy rash all over her skin. God, wouldn’t _that_ be embarrassing.

Finally, she waded back to shore. Her anger had cooled into something dark and cold, less of a fire and more like a lump of coal in her heart. She didn’t _like_ this Gwen. This Gwen felt petty and useless, spurred into stupidity by that new girl’s smile.

But David should be stopping this. David should be putting Patrice in her place. _David_ should be standing up for Gwen. Because if he didn’t do that, then what, exactly, did she mean to him?

He shifted, offering a tiny towel from his backpack. “Ah, I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I know something is. Do you, um, want to talk about it?”

“No, David. I don’t,” Gwen mumbled, wringing out what she could of her cargo shorts before stomping back towards the Woodscouts camp.

And of course, that’s when the alarms started.

“Oh, gosh,” David exclaimed, catching up to her. “What are those?”

“Proximity alarms?”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” David chewed his lip as they broke into a run.

Gwen rolled her eyes, almost asking why he followed _Patrice_ ’s suggestion at all, if he thought it was such a terrible one. But she knew why—because the other woman was right, and nailed what would make a great birthday for Max, and David cared enough about the kid to bend the rules a little, just for today.

She’d have done the same thing.

When they barged into camp, chaos reigned. Although there weren’t any Woodscouts to catch them in the act, the alarms added a sense of urgency Gwen hadn’t felt before. Max and Nikki and Neil were frantically throwing toilet paper over the tents, the ropes course, the gorge, anything they could reach.

David’s jaw dropped. Gwen grinned.

Patrice skidded to a stop and said, “Come on, guys! We should divide and conquer. Finish this fast, just in case.” She jerked a thumb at the watchtowers. “We’re screwed if they have cameras.”

Well, on the day Gwen had been hunting for Max’s stupid teddy bear, she’d literally had to climb their wall to get inside because no one heard her knocking. So she knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. She opened her mouth to say so, but David interrupted her, clearly flustered.

“Ah, okay! You take Neil, I’ll take—”

They were divvying up kids. Well, there was only one little demon she wanted to partner with in an endeavor like this.

“Dibs on Max,” Gwen shouted.

David waved a hand. “Fine, I’ve got Nikki. Let’s do this and get out.” The three adults broke, each running to their chosen kid’s side.

Gwen lost sight of them while she tracked down Max. Little bastard was in the sanitation tent, hovering over the in-ground toilets with a tube of ultra-strong glue in his hands. He glanced her way and grinned. “Oh, good, you’re finally here. Hold the lid up so I can seal these.”

She swallowed a laugh and did as ordered.

When they’d sealed all the toilets shut, Max led the way out of the tent, shouting over the blaring alarms. “Come on, we need a set of sticky notes.”

“What? Why?”

“To frame the Flower Scouts. Duh,” Max tossed her the toilet paper, then sprinted towards the main tent, ducking under the side of it. Gwen staggered after him, but caught sight of Patrice scaling one of the watchtowers. With a rather impressive throw, the woman chucked an open roll of teepee over the tent Max was crawling out of, the one that was taller than the wall itself.

Max glanced at the roll for a bare second as it came to rest at his feet, then traced its path all the way to where Patrice was rock climbing or some shit.

He whistled. “Check out the new girl. Damn.”

Gwen gritted her teeth.

“Come on,” Max moved on quickly, oblivious to the way Gwen was glaring daggers at Patrice. “I need a girl’s handwriting. You’re girly enough, I guess. Put lots of flowers on this shit.” He shoved a set of sticky notes and a purple marker into Gwen’s hands.

She groaned, but after scribbling various incriminating statements— _Cookies > Popcorn _and _Flower Scouts were here_ <3 and hundreds of others—onto the Woodscouts’ bunks, Gwen had to admit this was a pretty good idea.

Plus, siccing Pikeman on those bitchy little girls sounded like a bloodbath. She’d have to call Max next week and see how it went.

Patrice and Neil had painted the camp white. Gwen hadn’t even realized they’d brought this many rolls of toilet paper, but while David and Nikki had handled the lower grounds, Patrice had clearly aimed high.

And everyone was fawning over it. The group came together, with Nikki and Neil and Max exchanging high-fives while David looked slightly ill.

“O-Okay, gang. Are we done? I think we should be done,” he said, tugging at his yellow bandana as he surveyed the damage.

But Max jabbed a finger at the ropes course. “Wait, no! Who missed the ropes?”

“Oh, hang on,” Patrice exclaimed, tugging the last roll out of David’s backpack. She held it up like a trophy, and Gwen saw red.

“No, no! I’ve got this. I’ll handle it.” She glared, daring Patrice to protest, but the older woman just laughed delightedly and tossed her the roll. Feeling smug, Gwen tucked it under her arm and started for the ropes course. She’d done gymnastics in junior high. She could totally handle this.

Max grinned and shouted after her, “Mind the twisting. It’s a bitch.”

She snorted and flipped him off, gripping the fraying rope. It started with a simple ladder that scaled what looked like a telephone pole, to a nasty height. From there, the ropes spun like a spider’s web in four different directions, each braced over a dangerous-looking gorge.

Sweat prickled Gwen’s neck, but Patrice and David were watching. She couldn’t back down now.

“You should back down now,” David called, wringing his hands. “That looks dangerous, Gwen. I think we did a good enough job. Gold stars for everyone.”

“Are you kidding? She’s doing great!” Patrice exclaimed.

“Yeah, David. I’m doing great,” Gwen said, turning her concentration to the ladder. One hand in front of the other, all the way up. No looking back. After all, if fucking _Pikeman_ could do it, she could too.

She’d be the fucking hero today. Not Patrice.

When she reached the top, it just took a few seconds to unravel a bit of the toilet paper. She gripped the rope ladder with one hand, then made the mistake of glancing down.

And down.

And down.

Jesus, that gorge was deep. Was that… steam? And fire? Was this a fucking gate into hell, over here?

She suddenly had a new, terrified respect for the Woodscouts.

Unravel the toilet paper. Throw it. Climb down. That was all she had to do. With trembling hands, she wound the start of it around the top of the telephone pole, then aimed over her shoulder and _chucked_ it.

The jerking motion twisted the top of the rope ladder, and suddenly Gwen was upside-down.

“Oh, shit,” she gasped, gripping the ropes as tightly as she could. Her body weight seemed a hundred times heavier, and her arms shook with the exertion of holding on. She tried to climb down, ignoring the panicked shouts of the kids and David—and Patrice, because of course _Patrice_ sounded perfectly alarmed—but just as her body inched over solid ground instead of that terrifying gorge, the rope she was gripping snapped.

Gwen’s foot tangled, and her head slammed against the telephone pole, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have much to say about this except that Gwen is not handling the prospect of David + Patrice very well.
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wicked-42)


	4. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David finally addresses Gwen's actions.

Gwen groaned awake on David’s back. Her whole body felt heavy, and a wicked headache had bloomed at the base of her skull. Her head was tightly bound, and David had a strong grip on her legs, hunching forward to balance their weight. It surprised her: she wasn’t light, and David wasn’t muscular, but that didn’t seem to affect his steady, careful steps on the forest path.

“Mnngh. What—?”

“Oh, thank gosh,” David sighed, squeezing her legs.

“That was a pretty spectacular fall,” Max commented off to Gwen’s right. She glanced at him, but the simple motion had the world spinning around her. Swallowing the rising nausea, Gwen groaned and buried her face back in the crook of David’s neck. His skin was warm with exertion, but it wasn’t quite hot enough yet to warrant full-on sweating. That would be gross.

She giggled a little, thinking of that.

Max snorted nearby. “I think she’s lost it.”

“Concussion, no doubt,” David said, sounding concerned. “Can you run ahead and let Patrice know? We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“But—”

“Max. Please.”

Grumbling, the kid kicked a stone and stomped off. David stopped where he was, easing Gwen to the dusty ground. Everything felt slightly off-kilter, and she blinked heavily past her foggy vision, but the memories were slowly catching up to her.

The teepeeing. The ropes course.

Patrice.

Oh, god. Humiliation set in, hot and fast. Gwen moaned, bracing herself against a nearby tree as David crouched beside her. He didn’t notice her internal embarrassment. He just forced a smile and held up a few fingers. “Can you count these for me, Gwen?”

But she was being swallowed in a wave of misery. “David, I—I didn’t mean to—”

“How many fingers?” he insisted, calm and quiet.

She blinked hard, doing her best to wade through the mud of her mind and focus. “Three.”

He nodded, moving his index finger slowly past her eyes. For a moment, she didn’t realize what he was doing, but she tracked the movement nonetheless. It wasn’t until he nodded, satisfied, that she realized he was looking for that the whole time.

“Are you nauseated?”

Her stomach roiled at the mention. She clamped down her mouth, then nodded meekly.

David sighed. “A concussion, then. And your ankle.”

“My—”

But he shifted position, revealing the puffy lump of swollen skin. She recoiled, because she literally couldn’t feel that at all. No pain… but also no normal sensations: her sandals pressing on her toes, the mild air against her skin. Nothing.

Numb.

“I think it’s just a bad sprain,” David said, glancing back at her. “But I want to drive you to the hospital, just to be sure. If you walk on it and it’s broken, you could do permanent damage.” Now his gaze turned imploring. “Are you in pain?”

Did the pain of humiliation count? Gwen clenched her jaw and muttered, “No. I’m fine.”

Now his fingers feathered against the bandage around her skull, brushing the spot where her headache was centered. “You were bleeding a bit. I think it’s stopped now, but—Gwen, I’m concerned. You’ve been acting strange all day.”

She averted her gaze.

He swallowed and hooked her chin, forcing her to look at him. His expression was embarrassed, kind of sad. “Max… ah, Max told me what was happening. With you and Patrice.”

Her and Patrice. And their stupid, fucking, one-sided feud. Gwen’s cheeks burned, and if she could have, she’d have jumped upright and sprinted into the forest, never to be seen again. Anything to avoid this goddamn conversation.

Because nothing was happening on Patrice’s side. This had been _all_ in Gwen’s head, and she knew it. And now David was going to scold her for it, and oh, god, if her boyfriend acknowledged how petty and stupid she’d been, she might just curl up and die right here.

But then David sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have realized what was going on.” His gaze sobered, a serious expression she’d only seen once or twice before. “I _don’t_ like Patrice better than you, Gwen.”

It was fucking pathetic he felt the need to say that. It should have been common knowledge… but it wasn’t. Not to her.

“I know,” she mumbled.

Lied.

He laughed, trying to make her smile too. It didn’t quite work. “I mean, gosh, how could I? You’re my best friend. I mean, without you, I wouldn’t be here. Neither would Max.”

Daniel. He was talking about Daniel, that terrifying night when the cultist crept into his Denver apartment to finish the job Campbell hired him for: killing David once and for all.  

He was talking about the night Gwen killed a man.

Self-defense, the courts ruled. No charges filed. Just an unfortunate blip on her resume. But—that didn’t consider the nights she awoke in a cold sweat, sobbing as she fumbled for the phone. The nights where she never got back to sleep, where David offered steady, long-distance company while her heartrate returned to normal.

Some nights, it never did.  

Now, David cupped her cheek, wiping the tears under her eyes. “I love _you_ , Gwen. There’s no other person for me. Even though we met at Camp Campbell, I didn’t fall in love with you here.”

“But… we became friends here,” Gwen whispered. This atmosphere paved the path for their romance. David was demisexual. He might not have feelings for Patrice now, considering he barely knew her, but summer was long and feelings could change.

His brow knitted together. “And honestly, I hope to become friends with Patrice, too. Put yourself in her shoes, Gwen. She’s starting a new job, in a new place, with strangers and chaos all around her. And then you come into town, and—well, you’re a tough nut to crack.” Now he grinned, genuine and optimistic. “If you give her a chance, I bet you two will really hit it off. I hear she likes fanfiction.”

Gwen blinked. “R-Really?”

David rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish now. “Well, I think that’s what she said. Max dropped a beehive into the lake right after that, and it got a bit chaotic.” His expression smoothed out. “But that’s why I need a co-counselor, Gwen. I can’t do this job alone.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that.

“It just… feels like you’re replacing me.” Gwen flicked the dirt with her finger, studiously avoiding his gaze. “And I know I asked for that. But—I guess I didn’t think you’d do it so fast. Or so well.”

David was silent for a long time. Then his fingers crawled over hers, gripping her hand. “If you think I’d rather have Patrice than you at my side this summer, you’re fucking insane.”

She flinched at his curse, eyes flying to his face.

He grinned at her, tightening his grip on her hand. “But I also don’t want you giving up your dream job for me. That wouldn’t make either of us happy. So Patrice is the next best thing. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she said, hollowly.

“So you also know that this—” he gestured between them, “—won’t work if we don’t trust each other?”

He was right. Jesus, she knew he was right. Camp Campbell wasn’t some isolated bubble of a long-distance relationship. Even after summer ended, he’d be in Denver, and she’d be in Carmel. She couldn’t compete with every person who looked his way, just like he couldn’t possibly hope to keep tabs on all of people who flirted with her.

But acknowledging that was scary. Putting her trust into someone other than herself was scary. She’d done it over and over at Camp, but that had been putting faith in a coworker. Now she was serving her heart on a platter and begging David not to burn it.

The thought chilled her all the way to her toes. “I—I’ve never trusted anyone like that,” she admitted, loathing that it was as true a fact as “the sky is blue.”

David considered that, then laughed self-deprecatingly. “I trust _everyone_ like that. And it almost got me killed in March. I think you and I can learn something from each other. Find that perfect middle ground.” His voice was earnest. “Because in the end of the day, Gwen, you don’t have to trust everyone else. You just need to trust _me_.”

She did trust him. Of _course_ she trusted him. When he said it like that, so simply, so earnest, it made her whole feud seem even more idiotic. Patrice was never in the running, was she? Gwen had captured David’s heart and soul long before that other woman strolled into the picture.

“I do trust you, David,” she said with a soft chuckle.

He winked and lifted his pinky finger. “Okay. Then let’s make a vow.” Oh, god, what a dork. With a stupid smile, she hooked it, and he put his other hand on his heart. “I promise to love and trust you.” He paused, staring pointedly at her.

She copied his motion, then laughed in spite of herself. Jesus, this guy. “I promise to love and trust you.”

His entire face lit up, but he wasn’t done. “And I promise that I will be totally devoted to you, and you alone.”

“I will be totally devoted to you, and you alone.”

“And even if our feelings change, I will always be upfront and honest about it.”

Her heart twisted. She didn’t want their feelings to change. But David wasn’t stupid, and neither was she. Not every relationship worked out. And frankly, an honest discussion about waning feelings was better than purposefully distancing themselves… or worse, creating fake competitions with innocent bystanders.

So she drew a shaky breath and whispered, “Even if our feelings change, I will be upfront and honest about it.”

David pressed his lips to her pinky, and she did the same. It felt chaste, in a way, a quiet binding of their words. Her promise weighed heavy in her chest, and determination rippled through her.

She would do better. She would _be_ better. No more jealousy, no more immaturity, no more false interpretations. David fell for the woman who could save a child from a flaming bus. He fell for the woman who put herself in harm’s way to protect her loved ones. He fell for the woman who was passionate and smart and funny.

She wanted to be the person he fell for. And that person had no business succumbing to petty insecurities around a blonde named Patrice.

David pulled back, his voice soft, his smile wide. “Okay. Promise made. Now neither of us have anything to worry about. Right?”

“Right,” she replied, and for the first time all weekend, she meant it.

The silence rippled through them. An awkward moment where she expected one of the kids to interrupt them, but it was just David and wind sifting through the leaves.

After a moment of gazing at each other, David tilted his head. “I’d, ah… I’d like to kiss you now. If that’s okay.”

“Jesus, David, you don’t have to ask every—”

He interrupted her with a passionate embrace, lips crashing against hers. He tasted like honey chapstick, sweet and simple and divine. Gwen’s mind went blank as her eyelids fluttered shut, as sensation raced from her stomach all the way to her fingers. Oh _shit_. She’d never kissed him so firmly before, never felt his desire rippling through his short breaths, his trembling fingers.

God _damn_ , David was a good kisser. Considering he never seemed that sexually adventurous, he sure knew what he was doing with his tongue. She was putty beneath him, their skin pressing together as his hand tangled through her hair—

Gwen inhaled sharply as pain ratcheted through her skull. He’d pressed against the lump where she’d smacked into the telephone pole, and her body wasn’t happy about it.

David recoiled like he’d been burned. His eyes were hazy, but he focused in moments. “Ah, _ah_! Sorry! Oh, darn it all, Gwen, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just kind of lost myself, but you’re hurt and—”

Lost himself. Kissing her? A strange sense of power surged through Gwen, and she shut him up by hooking his chin, capturing his lips once again. He resisted for barely a second before melting into her, his fingers tangling far more gently in her hair this time.

She’d have kept going forever, but her ankle was finally getting its feeling back, and it wasn’t pleasant. The throbbing forced her to end their make-out session, instead resting her forehead against his. Their chests heaved in time with each other.

“Pretty sure Patrice can’t compete with _that_.”

“Hnnngh?” he mumbled, like she’d drugged him.

Well, nothing to boost a girl’s confidence quite like leaving her man a puddled mess. She grinned fiercely.

And of course, that’s when Max came strolling down the path. “Jesus, David, I thought you said you were right behind me. You two better not be getting gross out here.” His eyes swept over them, noted their flushed faces, and the kid recoiled. “Fuck, forget I ever bothered.” Cheeks darkening, he spun back on his heels.

“It’s not, ah—Max! It’s not like that!” David called after him, turning even brighter than his hair. “Max!”

Gwen laughed, in spite of everything.

They’d be okay. She’d make damn sure of that, because there was no way in hell she was losing little Mister Sunshine here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that, Orangey? :P 
> 
> There WILL be an epilogue, so stay tuned!!
> 
> (SIDE NOTE, FUCK IT ALL DID YOU GUYS SEE WHAT SYD WROTE ME???? :D :D :D GO READ IT NOW!! https://sydwritessickfic.tumblr.com/post/177243673884/camping-trip-with-the-added-fun-of-ditches )
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wicked-42)


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are wrapped up, and Gwen makes a new friend.

The campfire flickered merrily by the time David and Gwen returned from the hospital. This time, they invested in a pair of _actual_ crutches. A bad sprain, the doctor had said as he bound the ankle tightly. Ice and rest.

And mild pain medication. Because she wasn’t David or Max, and _didn’t_ have some weird vendetta against pills.

As such, she was feeling pretty good when they moseyed back into Camp.

David, however, was not. He fretted as she crutched past the counselor’s cabin, one hand on the small of her back. “I just don’t see how you’re going to handle your suitcase and crutches on the bus. And then the plane! What if there’s an emergency and your crutches are in an overhead bin and the plane’s on fire and—”

“David,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Panicking, you idiot. If the plane catches fire, I’ll have bigger problems than missing crutches.”

He didn’t share her humor, instead flinching at her words. “I think I should come back with you. Patrice can welcome the campers, and—”

“You know, as much as Child Protective Services would just _love_ to see Max’s temporary guardian abandoning him to a strange woman, in a weird camp, it’s hardly necessary,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “Especially considering it’s my own goddamn fault this happened. Let me reap my just rewards, please.”

David clenched his jaw, but then Nikki caught sight of them and raced up the path, and he was sufficiently distracted.

“David! Max doesn’t think I can light seven marshmallows on fire at once. He says they’ll be too heavy for the stick and melt right off, but I bet I could use them as a torch all the way to Spooky Island. What do you think?"

David winced. “Ah, I think that sounds very unsafe—”

“Well, _duh_. That’s why I need to try it.” Nikki patted his leg sympathetically, in a _poor David_ kind of way, before glancing at Gwen. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh, _cool_!! Crutches! Man, I’ve always wanted crutches. Maybe I should try to break my foot too. I’ve never fallen from a tree before, but if I land right, I bet I could cause some serious damage and be stuck on them for months!”

David paled even more, and Gwen snickered. As fun as it would be to let Nikki stress David to his limits, he’d dealt with enough today. “Here, Nikki. How about you just try these now, _without_ the bodily harm. That’s paperwork David and Patrice don’t really need, right?”

“Sure, yeah, right,” Nikki made grabby hands at the crutches, and Gwen showed her how to lower them to a size the child could actually use. They were still far too high, but Nikki swung herself over them without an issue and giggled as her toes brushed the ground.

Gwen leaned on David’s shoulder instead, which—she had to admit—was far more preferable. His arm snaked around her waist, and with his help she hopped the rest of the way to the campfire.

Patrice was tending it, tossing another log on while Max and Neil chatted amicably under the setting sun. As soon as they got close, Patrice jumped to her feet, offering a nervous smile. “Ah, hi, guys! I fed the kiddos dinner, and aside from a slight mishap with the mashed potatoes, they were very good.”

“Tattletale,” Max said, loudly. Neil snickered.

Gwen narrowed her eyes at them, but David just beamed. “Oh, good! I knew you could handle it, Patrice. Sorry we took so long.” He eased Gwen onto one of the logs, and she propped her foot upright on another one. David sat beside her, and she leaned against his chest. It was pretty comfortable, all things considered.

Max wrinkled his nose. “Oh, shit, is this what I’m going to have to look at for the rest of my goddamn life?”

Gwen flipped him off. “Consider it punishment for not keeping your big mouth shut.”

Patrice raised an eyebrow, and David offered a happy smile and a quick explanation: “Without Max, I’d have never known Gwen was in love with me. He’s our little matchmaker!”

“Jesus,” Max gagged. “It’s my birthday. Can you _not_?”

Gwen almost pulled David into another kiss, just to see how uncomfortable they could make Max with this newfound relationship, but considering Patrice and Neil and Nikki—still messing with Gwen’s crutches—were watching, it felt like overkill.

Didn’t stop her from smirking maliciously at the little devil, though. He made a face, her smug attitude not going unnoticed.

“Speaking of birthdays,” David said brightly, ignoring Gwen and Max’s silent conversation. He eased himself away from Gwen, holding up one finger. “Just a second. I have your birthday presents!”

“Wow, more than one?” Max drawled sarcastically, but his expression hinted at bemusement.

David was undeterred. “Yeah! More than one!” With a happy grin, he jogged to the counselor’s cabin, leaving Gwen alone with Patrice and the kids.

Silence fell. Patrice poked the fire with a stick, then dug for a set of s’mores fixings from her backpack. “Ah, who wants to roast some marshmallows? Now that David and Gwen are back.”

Nikki gasped, abandoning Gwen’s crutches, but Patrice held up a hand. “ _One_ marshmallow at a time, Nikki.”

“Aww man. You’re almost as much fun as David,” the little girl muttered, and it clearly wasn’t a compliment.

Patrice divvied out the sticks and marshmallows, ensured the kids were properly making the s’mores instead of abusing the power. When she knew they were preoccupied, she scooted closer to Gwen. “Hey. I—I wanted to make sure things are cool between us.”

Gwen’s cheeks heated. It was one thing for David to notice her behavior, but Patrice was never supposed to know of their rivalry. Or the resulting competition. She was _supposed_ to be the bystander in all of this, the lynchpin that didn’t really have a purpose except to make Gwen uneasy.

She wasn’t supposed to get involved, or call Gwen out like that.

But then Gwen remembered David’s words. How Patrice was coming into a new camp, a new job, new kids and a new co-counselor. Gwen had been new, once. It was like standing on the outside of some secret club, looking through the window at all the fun inside.

Sure enough, when Gwen peered at Patrice, she noticed the older woman’s fidgeting fingers, the way her foot bounced against the grass, her pink cheeks, how she stared over Gwen’s shoulder at the lake instead of meeting her eyes.

She was _nervous_.

And that made Gwen feel pretty shitty about how she’d acted.

“We’re good,” Gwen said, bracing herself against the log. “I owe you an apology, actually.”

Patrice blinked. “Oh, no, you don’t—”

“I do, Patrice.” When the older woman clamped her mouth shut, Gwen met her gaze. It took a minute to gather her thoughts, but Patrice was owed this. “I’m really sorry. This is my first summer away from Camp Campbell, away from _David_ , and I—I didn’t handle it well. It’s just… the last time we hired a new counselor, it… didn’t go great.” Understatement of the year. “And when you came along, I think I was expecting someone David wouldn’t really like, or who couldn’t do the job as well as me.”

“I’ll never be as good as you were,” Patrice said, laughing off Gwen’s words.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “That’s a lie. You’re like David. You actually _care_ about this job. And if you can get these three behind you, you’re golden.” She jerked a thumb at Max, Neil, and Nikki.

Patrice smiled fondly at them. “I think they’re funny as hell. They just need that adult figure to rebel against.”

“See, you’re already figuring it out,” Gwen agreed. Her eyes dropped to the campfire, and she lowered her voice. “It just… it felt like I was being edged out. And that scared me. And then I took it out on you, which was unfair, since you’re just doing your job. So, I’m sorry. I’d like to be friends, if—if that’s still on the table.”

In response, Patrice flung her arms around Gwen’s shoulders. “Oh, I’d love that! David talks so highly of you. He said you love trash TV. What’s your favorite show? Because I’ve just discovered _Werewolves in Los Angeles_ , and how _hot_ is Jason McFang?”

Their friendship bond solidified in that instant way when two people realize they were into the same fandom. Gwen took her by the shoulders and said, “He is my _soulmate_. Kyle needs to move aside and let me take a crack at him.”

“Get in line, sister,” Patrice said, a sly gleam in her eyes.

“Ah, am I interrupting?” David said, hesitantly. The women glanced over their shoulders at him. He was standing, weighed down with poorly wrapped presents, looking between them as if he wasn’t sure if they were hugging or getting ready to strangle each other.

Gwen grinned, and Patrice instantly scooted over to make room between them.

"Not at all," Gwen said, mouthing to Patrice,  _we'll talk later_. 

Patrice flashed a thumbs-up.

“Holy _shit_ , David. I was joking.” Across the fire, Max’s jaw was unhinged. Neil nudged him, and the kid stepped closer, hesitantly. “Did you get enough presents for everyone in the fucking camp?”

“Nope, just you,” David said, tossing him the one teetering precariously on top of the pile.

Max deftly caught it, but his jaw clenched. In the flickering firelight, his eyes seemed to shine. “This—”

“Is really nice of David, isn’t it?” Gwen prodded.

The kid shot her a nasty glare, but scuffed his foot into the grass and said, “Y-Yeah. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” David set the presents on the nearby log and ruffled his hair. “Happy birthday, Max.”

He looked so overwhelmed, standing there with a present in hand, a pile more nearby, his friends behind him, his new guardian in front. Gwen felt bad for the little bastard. She plucked the present from his fingers and pretended like she was going to open it first. “Well, I’m not letting this go to waste. You snooze, you lose—”

With an indignant gasp, Max snatched it from her hands, scowling as he tore off the wrapping. David settled in beside Gwen, turning his gaze towards the smoke drifting into the dark night sky as Max shouted, “Oh, man, an iPod!”

Next to David, Patrice laughed cheerily and handed him another present. “Keep going! We can’t be out here all night.”

“I want to open the next one! Pleeeease, Max, can I open it?” Nikki whined.

Neil grabbed for one too. “If Nikki gets to open one, I deserve—”

“Shut up, you leeches! Get your own goddamn birthday!”

The chaos became a familiar din, settling over Gwen like a blanket of white noise. She rested her head against David’s shoulder, letting the warmth of the fire spread all the way to her toes. David intertwined their fingers and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Gwen smiled. Guess it wasn’t such a bad weekend after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just kind of adore the idea of Gwen being besties with the new female counselor, and them like, calling each other to talk about David behind his back. XD Sooooo expect that in the future. 
> 
> Also I definitely was the 11 year old kid purposefully falling off the monkey bars, desperate to break SOMETHING so I could use crutches too. Respect, Nikki. 
> 
> ALSO ALSO I don't know if any of you care, but Patrice is based off the HIMYM Patrice. And I narrowly avoided having Gwen say, "NOBODY ASKED YOU, PATRICE." 
> 
> ... It may still happen. #noregrets
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Also also also, for anyone who cares, in my universe, Gwen is bi and David is pansexual / demisexual. I doubt it'll come up, but that's what I ship.
> 
> (last one, I swear) Now that this is over, I need prompts for some oneshots! You can submit them [to my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wicked-42) and I'll consider them for future fics! (I may close prompts later on down the line, but for now, they're OPEN)
> 
> Edit: (8/30/2018) OMG Mister Honeynuts wrote a continuation of this fic, set in my AU!! AAAAH. It's now officially canon within the Dadvid in Denver AU, so y'all better go read it next. It takes place a week after this fic. :D :D [READ IT HERE! <3 ](https://mister-honeynuts.tumblr.com/post/177584709195/prompt-community-appreciation-favorite-au)


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